


Heart hunter

by SantaMalgastadora



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Blood, Drinking, F/M, Kissing, Love at First Sight, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:35:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25793743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SantaMalgastadora/pseuds/SantaMalgastadora
Summary: Julian was with Mazelinka at the market, helping her shop, carrying her bags and boxes, loaded in his arms all the way up to his chin. He was about to ask if she was hosting the Masquerade at her hut this year when he saw her for the first time and when he fell completely, ridiculously and irreversibly in love with her.***There's a new witch in town.
Relationships: Julian Devorak/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 14





	Heart hunter

**Author's Note:**

> READ THE TAGS. Be safe, loves.

Julian was with Mazelinka at the market at the South End one morning, helping her shop, carrying her bags and boxes, loaded in his arms all the way up to his chin. He was about to ask if she was hosting the Masquerade at her hut this year when he saw _her_ for the first time and when he fell completely, ridiculously and irreversibly in love with her.

It was a young, petite woman, pale and slender. She was wearing a dark blue cape with a wide hood and a long white dress, pristine and stark against the deep colour. There were cornflowers in her hair, long, fair, flowing freely on her back. She was at a herb stand, browsing through the products, balancing on her hip a large basket full of new linen and a big jar of something that looked like cherry liqueur.

Frankly, he barely noticed when Maz led him to the same stand, as he was too busy staring at the woman's hair, mesmerised with how the sunshine reflected gold and silver in it. But he did notice that the heavy basket was about to slip off and spill all of her shopping on the ground. She was absentminded, considering a bundle of either wild parsnip or water hemlock, and felt it a second too late, and gasped and dropped the herb and turned the moment he caught it underneath with his free hand.

Their eyes met, and it was like gazing straight at a summer sky. Julian's heart fluttered and heat shot to his face and ears.

"Sorry," he mumbled, then mustered a charming smile. "You almost dropped it, my dear."

Her eyes got even bigger, trapping, engulfing him, making his smirk die on his lips in just how utterly helpless he felt before their beauty.

"Ilya, kindly take it and let's go," Mazelinka's voice cut through his dreamy stupor.

With the corner of his eye he saw an armful of green leaves joining the wobbly construction against his chest. He blinked and instinctively held it tighter. "I- I'm coming," he told Maz, almost missing the moment when the weight of the basket lifted from his hand. He turned back to the lovely woman.

And saw her gone.

He looked around, craned his neck over the crowd, his arm still outstretched awkwardly, but she disappeared like she was never there. 

"Ilya! Come over here," Mazelinka called him again, and his heart sank.

He didn't even ask for her name.

"Do you know who she was?" he asked Maz when he joined her.

"Who?"

"The girl in blue cape, at the herbs."

"I haven't seen anyone."

Julian sighed. He couldn't have imagined her, could he? He couldn't have imagined _those_ eyes nor the way they made him feel.

He looked down at his palm, which still remembered the weight of the basket he could swear he held a mere minute earlier, and what he saw made his chest fill with warmth - a single, blue petal stuck to his skin.

There was hope.

  
  


Since that time, he started to visit the market everyday, every morning, no matter if shopping was needed or not. He'd stroll around or stand at the most frequented places, watching, getting stared at and taunted by acquaintances, and he endured it in hope to catch a glimpse of that blue cape or fair hair.

And one day, when he almost lost hope, almost felt stupid about spending hours and hours waiting, he got lucky.

He was stretching and rubbing his aching neck when he noticed a cornflower on the ground. His heart skipped a beat and head snapped back up, eyes searching, searching until _yes!_ There she was! She really was there, all blue and white and lovely, flowers in her hair, the basket on her hip. She was picking apples, as rosy as her cheeks, smiling sweetly at something the vendor said, and Julian found himself getting jealous. He glided gracefully, quickly between the people, not letting the woman out of his sight. A step or two behind her, he slowed down and panicked just a little. 

_He'd no idea what to say._

Trying not to move too weirdly, he shuffled to the stand and stopped next to the girl at something he hoped was a close enough, yet acceptable distance. He got down to pretending he was picking apples as well and made sure that the side of his coat brushed against her hand on the basket.

It did, and she looked at it and up at him.

Julian mustered all his experience from the community theatre he had and blinked, peeked at her, then double took and intended to smile in surprise but those big, blue eyes knocked him off his stride and he ended up just gaping.

But she beamed. "Hi," she said, voice soft and painfully sweet, piercing his heart like a dagger. "I remember you."

"Oh!" he replied.

Hours spent on looking out for her, days of yearning, nights of dreaming. Countless plays he's recited to audiences big and small. Piles of poems buried in a box hidden under his bed. And now, when it was time, the only word he could recall, was _oh_.

And it wasn't even a word.

But it didn't seem to put her off, _bless her_ , because she only smiled brighter. "I didn't thank you for saving me then, I'm so sorry!"

Julian snorted, he fucking _snorted_ . " _Saving you…_ " He shrugged it off, still striving for nonchalance, which was difficult with his face burning like that. "I just, just helped, that's all."

"No, I mean it." She moved a little bit closer and put her hand on his forearm, and he had to relearn how to breathe on spot. "I don't know what I would do if I dropped my basket, if my jar broke and everything spilled..."

"It… would be a waste," Julian remembered how to make sense again.

She brightened. "Yes. So thank you. How can I repay you?"

"Me? Oh, no, my dear, it's… It was nothing, really, so…" He gazed again into those magical eyes of hers, her face, smiling, waiting. So how stupid would he be if he turned down the offer to reciprocate from such a lovely creature? "Um… Let me help you shop and we'll be even."

The girl laughed, lightly, richly, and it was the most alluring sound Julian had heard in his entire life. "Help me shop? Is this really what you want in return?"

"For now," Julian winked. _Yeah, he was back on track!_

She bit her lip, her gaze turning playful. "Alright." She handed him the basket and he took it with a deep bow, making her giggle again. _Yes, he was doing it right._ "I wanted to get some fruit and vegetables. And candles, chalk and ink."

"Huh," Julian hummed while she loaded the basket with apples. "What a peculiar list. If I may, you're either a teacher or a witch."

Her eyes went so adorably round, doing strange, tingly things to Julian's stomach. "Very good guess. I am a witch."

"Are you? Really?"

"Yes, I am. Thank you." She paid for the apples. "I live in a hut in the woods outside the city."

"Well, look at that. My friend is a witch, you know? He's good. Terrifingly so sometimes."

"Is he now?" she murmured, leading him to another stand.

"Yes, he runs a shop in the Center. Have you heard about it?"

"I don't think I have." She flashed him a sheepish smile over a bundle of carrots. "I'm new here."

"Oh, right, sorry." He braced himself, watching her pack vegetables into the basket. _There he goes_. "I should've known. I wouldn't miss such a pretty face even if I were blind."

Her eyes went wide again and she grinned and chuckled and _oh, wasn't she just charming_. "Stop it!" she gasped and slapped him on the chest with a bundle of lovage. "You're making me blush."

Julian beamed. _She hit him._ "That's why I did it, my dear. It suits you."

The witch scoffed and pouted, and it would had scared Julian if only she wasn't smiling the whole time. And blushing. _God, she was pretty_.

"Well, alright." She dropped the leaves on top of the vegetables and paid the vendor. "But only because it makes you smile so sweetly. Come on."

She moved on while Julian stood there, rooted to the spot.

_Did she just...? Did she...?_

She caught his dumbstruck gaze over her shoulder, hers so blue, so soft and open. She curled her finger on him, beckoning him, and it could be magic, could be not, but didn't have to be - Julian snapped out and followed her swiftly. He dutifully carried her basket and held it out for her to put inside a box of chalk, of long, black candles, and a bottle of ink.

When he realised it was the last item she mentioned, he saddened and in desperation, offered to pay for it.

"Absolutely not!" she exclaimed, and he got scared he offended her. He was about to apologise his heart out when she raised those eyes to his, making his mind go blank again. "But perhaps you'd like to buy me a drink tonight?"

Julian’s mouth fell open. He closed it quickly. "Really? Would you like that? I- I mean, _yes_ , I'd love to! If you… If you want me to."

The lovliest of smiles bloomed on her lips. Without a word, she pulled a cornflower from her hair and threaded it through a buttonhole in his jacket. She pressed her hand to his chest, right over his racing heart. "I'll wait here at dusk, okay?"

Julian didn't trust his voice - he nodded.

"It's a date, then." She took the basket out from his hands like it weighed nothing, brushing her fingers against his, striking sparks where their skin met, or at least it felt like it. "Bye."

He opened his mouth but no sound left it, and when he found it and uttered a _bye_ , she had already disappeared in the crowd. He scolded himself under his breath, but gently.

After all, he got a date.

  
  


Julian was nervous, oh so nervous. He'd been waiting at the deserted marketplace since long before the sun even began to set, pacing, worrying his lip, having to remind himself over and over again not to clutch the bouquet of red roses to his chest so hard. But this time, he did think on some things to say and practiced them in his mind. He wanted to be better prepared than last time. 

"Hi," her soft voice and a hand on his elbow startled him, and one look into her laughing eyes made him go stupid all over again. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay, you didn't, I just, uh…" he rambled. He told himself to shut up and start over. "These are for you," he offered her the roses and relished in how her eyes went big and face brightened up with a smile.

"Thank you! You're so sweet!" She accepted them with joy of someone who's never gotten flowers before, and Julian swelled with pride. She hummed languidly as she smelled them. "They're splendid." She again put a hand on his chest, above the cornflower he obviously kept, and tugged on his collar ever so lightly, and Julian followed, not knowing what to think it could mean nor being quite able to. But soon he found out - her soft, warm lips pecked his cheek. "Thank you," she repeated, her breath ghosting over his skin.

Julian straightened up, utterly flushed and speechless. _It was just too good to be true_ . A woman so beautiful and kind and sweet being so into him, flirting with him, eager to spend time with him, _giving him kisses_. Has he died and gone to heaven?

Before he decided or found words, she brought him back to earth. She wrapped an arm around his. "Shall we go?"

He turned his eyes to hers. Led by gratitude and pure, blooming love for her, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it dearly. "As you wish, my dear."

He took her to the Raven and only inside, when the heat and noise hit them, did he think it might not had been the best choice after all. He was about to burn with shame and suggest some other place but the look of sheer enthusiasm on her face reasurred him.

She pointed to a booth on the far end of the bar. "Can we sit there? What do you drink?"

 _This girl was amazing._

She insisted on having what Julian had, and who was he to refuse a lady? He brought them Salty Bitters and cried with laughter at the disgusted face she made.

"I warned you."

She grimaced. "Yes, you did."

"Let me get you something else."

She shook her head and took another swig, evidently aiming to finish the drink as fast as possible. 

"Please, my dear," he repeated, biting back a laughter, seeing how miserable she was. "Why would you torture yourself with this? I'll drink it and order you something better."

"Thank you but no. I won't let it defeat me."

Julian chuckled into his tankard, half amused, half impressed. "You're a stubborn creature, aren't you?"

She raised a finger, drinking. "Consistent. I finish what I start."

"Ah! Speaking of…" He pulled from his own Bitters, seeing he'd have to keep up. "My dear. I've been meaning to ask you since the moment I saw you." Emboldened by alcohol already purring in his veins, he leaned over the table and brushed his fingers over hers on the tankard. "What's your name?"

She smirked in the most enticing way and took a sip, not even wincing this time. "Why, what would you like to call me?"

Julian bit his lip and groaned. She was flirting with him now. He wasn't strong enough for this. _He was fucked_. "Don't be cruel. Tell me. I want to know your name." He tentatively nudged her fingers, and they unfurled and fell into his palm. His eyes locked with hers, and those were dark and dangerous. _He_ _was doomed_. "Please."

She hummed pensively, stroking his open palm, making his insides twist with something achingly deliscious. "You call me _my dear_ ," she noticed. "I like it. Call me your _dear_."

"You are." He squeezed her hand in his. "Dear to me, that is."

She beamed and her marvelous eyes fell to his mouth, and she leaned over the table like he did. Julian's heart hammered, he instinctively licked the seam of his lips but stayed put. He was about to crane his neck towards her when she raised her tankard and pulled from it.

"Good," she murmured between sips. She downed the Bitters and put it away. "What should I call you, handsome stranger?"

"Julian," he choked out, observing how she licked her lips. "Call me Julian."

" _Julian_ ," she purred. He bit back a moan. "Could you be a sweetie and bring me something else now? Something less salty and bitter and generally disgusting?"

He chuckled and let himself draw her hand to his lips again. "Right away, my dear."

He made sure another drink be sweet and enjoyed the sounds of pleasure she made when she tried it. He observed her fingers deftly braid a chain of the roses he gave her, and his chest filled with warmth when she put it on and just wore it like her cornflowers, while they talked and talked, and laughed, and touched every now and then across the table. And when he felt brave enough, he asked her to dance, and she agreed, and he just couldn't be happier with her lithe body pressed flush against his, so hot and soft, moving joyfully in his arms to the lively music.

It was after the last round of drinks, when he himself doubted if he should have another, when she said:

"I think I should get going."

Julian's heart sank. He squeezed her hand and nodded. "Of course, my dear. It got late."

But her sweet, sincere, tipsy smile brightened him up right away. "I had so much fun, Julian."

"Me, too, my dear. Me, too." His head spun with booze, with affection and her charm. But then, he remembered. "Wait! Didn't you say you live in the woods?"

"Yes, I did. I do."

"I must walk you."

She chuckled. "No, you don't have to. I'll manage. I know the woods."

"No, darling, please!" He kissed the inside of her hand. "It's not the woods I don't trust, it's the city. I won't sleep if I let you go alone, so please, let me walk you."

She giggled again, either at him worring about her or at his lips tickling her skin. But she nodded. "It'll be nice to have you for a moment more."

Julian beamed, pressed another kiss to her palm.

They left the Raven arm in arm, holding each other dearly. They crossed the sleeping city, enjoying the silence and chilly air on their heated skin, and some more stolen time of their company. They joked and flirted, and even bickered, and Julian was so happy he could fly. He laced his fingers with hers, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulled her to his side and kissed the top of her head, and she didn't mind - she snaked her own arm around his waist and squeezed.

When they reached the edge of the forest, she waved her hand, and a few light orbs shone over their heads like fireflies, lighting up their way, making shadows dance between the dark trees.

Julian watched them with wide eyes. "I know that spell," he informed her.

"From your witch friend?"

"Yes. Ah! You know? Another friend of mine, he lives in these woods, too."

She giggled in the most endearing way. "You've got a lot of friends, sweet Julian."

"Why, I'm a very _friendly_ person," he murmured into her hair, pulling her close, his lips wandering down to her ear.

She slipped away with grace and walked backwards, shot him a look that made his blood boil. "I'm afraid I haven't met this friend either."

"I'd be surprised if you have." He couldn't help but ogle her up and down. She was a vision - with her cape thrown off of her shoulders, her white dress hugging her tightly, the red rose crown on her head and tousled hair and blush up her cheeks making her look primal. "He goes out very rarely. He values his privacy."

"Also a witch?"

"No, not a witch. But he can do magic. Protective spells, talismans and such. He's a good guy."

"I'll keep my eyes open, then. Maybe I'll run into him one day."

Julian groaned, biting his lip. "No, don't." He reached out to her and grabbed her hand. She stopped, letting him come near. He stroked her hot cheek, their lips mere centimetres away. "I want you to myself."

She burst with a laughter, sweet and sonorous, and pushed herself away from him but didn't let go of his hand. She led him deeper into the forest. "Oh _Julian_ ," she purred, darkly, hotly, giving him goosebumps. "Do you like me that much?"

" _So much_ ," he breathed, eyes fixed on her lips, pink and wet and parted just a tad. "I'd love to show you. If you want me to. If you like."

She smirked again, like then in the bar, and Julian almost pounced on her. "And if I do?" she murmured. "Will you be good for me?"

"Ohh, I can be so good, darling," he breathed. "Let me show you. Let me be good for you."

The witch licked her lips shamelessly, and Julian almost tripped at how his body throbbed at the sight. She grabbed his hand harder, a promise in her hold on him, then pulled him into a run. "We're almost there," she threw over her shoulder. 

Julian followed her without a question, and soon, the orbs brought out from the dark an outline of a fence, a garden and a hut. His dear led him inside, into the warmth of her home, smelling of herbs and flowers, lit with embers in the fireplace and candles.

The moment the door closed behind them, they were on each other, embracing, touching, bodies hot from the run and pulsing with desire. Their lips immediately locked and they kissed, sloppily, roughly, humming loudly, like they'd been starving for it, with their lips open and hot, melting, with their tongues gliding against one another once in his, once in her mouth, greedy, hungry, exploring, claiming, taking. She pulled on him, on his clothes, towards her bed. On their way there, her cape fell to the floor, then his coat and jacket. Then she turned them around, pushed on him, made him trip and fall on the mattress with a gasp, and she swiftly gathered her skirt up and straddled him, and caught his mouth with hers again as his arms wound around her, pulling her close to his chest, his hands feeling her back, her hips and thighs through her dress.

"Please," he breathed urgently against her lips. "Oh please, tell me your name."

She smiled ravenously and giggled. "No."

Julian groaned into the heat of her kiss and rolled his hips up, grinding his sex between her legs. "Why not?"

She bit on his lip, drawing yet another groan from him, and pulled on it viciously as she sat up. She quirked her head, her hands parting his shirt and smoothing down his chest. "So you don't scream it into the night."

He smirked but didn't make it to say that was exactly why he wanted to know it. He only caught a reflection of candlelight in the dagger in her hand before she brought it down into his chest. He gasped, more in surprise, more at the coldness of the blade buried to the hilt in him than in fear or pain his body didn't feel yet. But he did scream when she pulled it out, and he screamed with each strong stab she aimed around his heart. His hands clenched on her thighs and a thought to throw her off of him crossed his mind but then, he choked on his blood flooding his throat and nose. Then, she was dragging the blade deep between the stabs, and he wailed, and coughed, and gagged on blood, on air, on the excruciating pain. He only managed to force his eyes open and see her beautiful face and white dress splashed with redness; see those enchanting blue eyes smiling down at him before the darkness claimed him and didn't let go this time.

***

The witch finished her work unhurriedly, precisely. She couldn't crack the ribs - the risk of damaging the heart was too big. So, she slid the blade flat underneath them and very carefully moved it to the side, cutting the tissues. Next, she reached under the pillows for a curved, wooden spatula she also hid there, tsked at the blood dripping out from Julian's nose and open mouth on her fresh linen, then slid it inside and just scooped the heart out like an egg from a pot.

She cradled it in her hands. It was so hot, so red, almost black, still twitching. _So beautiful_.

"Thank you. You were so good," she whispered softly to Julian, looking into his unseeing eyes.

Very, very slowly, she stood up from his body and padded across her hut and to the kitchen area. There, on the counter, a large jar of formalin was already waiting. She dipped the heart in it, the liquid quickly turning deep red, put a lid on and with a content sigh, moved it over the counter to another, similar jar standing in the shadow of a cupboard. 

She leaned on her elbows and lovingly touched the glass with her bloody fingers.

Two down. Four to go.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for any anatomically wrong descriptions. I'm not a doctor and have never murdered anyone :(  
> Look up the herbs I mention in here and shout at me at my tumblr if you like - [santamalgastadora](https://santamalgastadora.tumblr.com/)


End file.
